


Definitely A Maybe

by orphan_account



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: F/F, Fluff, Future Fic, M/M, Samwell Reunion, college reunion parties, married zimbits, meet cute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-26
Updated: 2017-08-26
Packaged: 2018-12-19 23:08:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,741
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11908113
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Jack rubbed back of his neck, then cleared his throat.  “Camilla.  Kate.  I didn't expect to um.  Well.  This is…uh...awkward.”“Oh thissofucking is,” Kate said, stepping back.  Neither she nor Camilla made a move to stop the lift after Jack and Bittle stepped out, and the doors shut.The silence between them was awkward, and Bittle was looking at the pair of them, his deep brown eyes big and curious.  “Wait.  This is…”“Uh.  Yeah,” Jack said.  "Camilla and Kate, this is Eric.  My husband."





	Definitely A Maybe

**Author's Note:**

> Because there's not enough wlw in this fandom, and there are so many under-explored canon characters in check please. Kate is vaguely based off my version of her from Then There Was You, though this is not in the same universe. The zimbits is minimal, so don't go reading into this expecting more than a few lines. 
> 
> Special thank you to [heyfightme](http://heyfightme.tumblr.com) who was more than indulgent in listening to my rant about the lack of women love. Also please go read her [Lamilla fic](http://heyfightme.tumblr.com/post/164299595656/the-bro-code-doesnt-have-a-bylaw-for-this) because it is possibly the best thing out there.
> 
> Other than that, I hope you enjoy! We need more wlw in this fandom!

Leaning over the bar, Camilla reached for the tray holding olives, spearing three more on her little plastic sword before she was noticed. She was pretty sure open-bar didn’t mean help yourself to whatever the fuck you wanted, but how the hell did extra olives mean two, pathetic, shrivelled green things floating in her martini.

She didn’t exactly have high hopes for the fare at the reunion. It might have been Samwell, but budget cuts were real, and she didn’t think they’d be splurging on top-shelf gin or filet mignon. It was good enough though. It would get her drunk, anyway, which was precisely what she needed to be to face this group of people she hadn’t interacted more than leaving a facebook like here and there on photos of their kids and dogs and whatever.

She was trying not to be a shit about it, of course. She’d done her time with the rest of them, and moved on with her life. But it was surreal to log into her social media and see the versions of herself her mother always wanted her to be. Big house, picket fence, two and a half kids, a fucking prius. The thought of any of it gave her heartburn.

She knew she wasn’t going to end up doing anything huge with tennis. I mean, she’d been good, but she wanted to be something else. Undefined by That One Thing which seemed to plague half their graduating class. Most of them were having anticipation orgasms in their pants waiting for the star of the show and his husband—the big out and proud NHL guy with a ring on his finger and some trophy with his name carved into it.

The funny part was, she’d always liked Jack, and his husband was pretty great, too. She’d followed him on twitter a few years after she left Samwell, and she enjoyed seeing his commentary. It gave her an insight into the person she knew Jack could have been, not that she would have wanted anything deeper, even if she’d dated the Jack who sent six dozen roses because he wasn’t sure how many was enough for some bullshit, Hallmark holiday.

When she’d known him, he’d been wound tight, and so hyper-focused on hockey and his teammates she didn’t remember actually talking about anything else with him. In hindsight it made sense, and it was very Jack that he hadn’t even realised about him and Bittle until the very end.

But he’d been a good guy. They weren’t in love—she never had delusions about him and frankly she hadn’t really considered falling in love with a guy in the first place. Mostly she wanted to be taken out for drinks and her clit licked until she came so hard she cried—and Jack had delivered on both fronts. He’d never hesitated on being DD, and he never hesitated on taking her back to her room and letting her bite the palm of his hand as he went to town.

With a sigh, she took a long drink of her cheap martini, then surveyed the crowd. The Star of the Evening hadn’t arrived yet, but everyone was watching the door every time it opened, ready to accost Jack and Bittle like somehow they were worthy of his time. No one really had given two shits about the guy they called a Hockey Robot for four years until suddenly he had an eight figure salary and a champion ship ring.

Whatever.

Douche bags.

“You dropped this.”

Camilla turned at the sound of a voice, low and a little husky, and saw a tall woman she vaguely recognised holding one of her olives between her thumb and forefinger. 

“Ah, shit,” she said, looking down at her little sword which was now one olive short. “Open bar, but that’s how they get you. Skimping out on the garnish.”

“Is it a garnish?” the woman asked, going up onto the tips of her toes, then tossing the olive into the bin near the beer cooler.

Impressed, Camilla lifted a brow. “No idea, man. I’m just here to get trashed and watch Jack Zimmermann awkwardly sign autographs.”

The woman snorted a laugh softly, leaning against the bar, closer to Camilla than before. “Meanwhile I’m going to remember the time I watched him pull these fucking ugly as hell yellow socks out of his gym bag, and straight up admit—to my face—that he hadn’t washed them in a year because they were lucky.”

She wrinkled her nose. “Oh my god. That’s almost as bad as the jock strap, but he also didn’t want to get some funky shit growing on his balls, so he washed it once a month.”

Biting her lip, the woman stuck out her hand. “I’m Kate. You must be either Samantha or Camilla.”

Camilla felt Kate’s warm palm against her own, and stared down at her short nails. _Nice_. “Camilla,” she said. 

“Oh my god I can’t believe I didn’t recognise you. I went to like six of your tennis matches.” When both of Camilla’s eyebrows rose, Kate shrugged, the strap of her tight black dress sliding off her shoulder. She didn’t move to fix it. “My girlfriend at the time was totally in love with uh...what’s her name? Blonde, cute…”

“Sharpova?” Camilla said, grasping.

“Yeah, that’s the one. Anyway, yeah she used to drag me to matches all the time. You were pretty good.”

Camilla laughed. “I was alright. It was something to do, anyway.”

“I take it that’s not a thing now.” Kate lifted her own drink to her lips—something faintly pink and bubbly in a champagne glass, with what looked like a blackberry floating toward the bottom. 

Camilla assessed her in a casual way. She was objectively attractive, full-figured, dark-blonde hair worn in a sort of twisted bun at the nape of her neck. She looked at home dolled up, but there was something about her that said on any given day Camilla would find her in track bottoms and an old t-shirt.

She was into it.

“It’s not a thing now,” she confirmed. “Though I coach in the summers for something to do. My niece wants to go pro if she can, so I figured what the hell. Otherwise I’m a high school principal.”

Kate’s eyes went wide. “Oh shit. So…you’re like a badass.”

Camilla shrugged. “I’ve been known to be a badass from time to time. It’s not as terrifying as most people think, but then again maybe I’m just numb from all the years teaching maths.”

Kate took another long drink, then set her empty glass on the top of the bar. “I feel like…weirdly intimidated by that, but also it’s pretty sexy.”

Camilla’s cheeks went splotchy pink like they did every fucking time she was hit on. She saw Kate’s eyes fix on her cheeks, and kind of wanted to kiss her right there for not saying anything about it. “I think that’s the first time anyone’s called being a principal sexy. I mean, unless you have some teacher fetish—which whatever, I don’t kink-shame.”

Kate shrugged, nonchalant which Camilla was starting to _love_ about her. “I just think gorgeous women in positions of authority are sexy.”

“Well,” Camilla drawled, and felt a little out of her element. It had been a really long time since she’d had to do this. She hadn’t dated since she and Liz broke up—eight months had felt like a decent break, and she’d been aiming for a full year but Kate was really, really cute. “What do you do?”

“I own a restaurant,” she said, then shrugged and turned away to order another drink. “Whiskey sour, extra cherries.” She turned back to Camilla and winked. “Wanna take a guess on how skimpy they go with my garnish?”

“That’s a losing bet, babe,” Camilla said, then flushed again though all Kate did was smile. “So. Restaurant, that’s…”

“Boring as fuck,” Kate supplied. “Like, we do pretty well, but I kind of fell into it and it was totally not my plan. Like I didn’t get a fucking master’s in theology for this shit, but here I am.” Her drink arrived right then, and she picked it up.

“Cheers to whatever the fuck we’re doing with our lives, then.”

They clinked glasses, and grinned at each other as they took a drink, and Camilla swore she was in some sort of rom-com. Her martini was grossly warm, but she downed it, then held out her hand. “Do you wanna dance or something?”

Kate stared at her, then tipped her own drink back, shuddering at the foul taste of cheap whiskey, then slammed the glass back down on the bar. Camilla looked over to see two cherries nestled in the jagged cubes of ice.

“Let’s do this. There’s like four couples on the dance floor, we won’t look too stupid.”

Camilla rolled her eyes, even as their fingers tangled together, and she pulled her along. “Who the fuck cares. I’m a high school principal. It doesn’t get more mortifying than having to line dance on stage to some 90s country song during the school pep rally to pretend like I give a flying fuck whether or not these over-hyped, tiny testosterone monsters bring home the football championship.”

Kate was laughing so hard she snorted, and yanked Camilla to her, burying her face in the crook of Camilla’s neck. “God. Why didn’t I actually say hi to you in college?”

Camilla felt her breath catch as Kate’s fingers dug into her waist. They were moving slower than the beat of the song, and people around them were looking because she was fairly sure the only thing these people knew about her was that she dated Jack once. But she didn’t care. Part of that was the whiskey, and part of it was Kate’s breath against her neck which was telling her that if she played her cards right and didn’t drink too much more, she wouldn’t be going back to her room alone.

“I think it might have been uh,” Camilla shrugged, pushing her body a little tighter against Kate’s. “Weird, I guess?”

“Why? Because we both had our vaginas licked by the leading scorer in the NHL?” Kate asked, then boldly kissed, slightly open-mouthed, against Camilla’s neck. “I promise I can eat you out way better than he ever did.”

Camilla shivered. “Promises. He was pretty good.”

Kate couldn’t help another laugh. “Yeah. Yeah he was. I’m still better. Trust me.”

Camilla pulled back slightly, looking at the flush across Kate’s cheeks, at the way her lips were a little shiny from gloss, and a little fuller on the bottom from the way she kept biting it. She wanted to kiss her, but she always wanted to drag this out, to let the anticipation slowly build until she was ready to fucking beg for it.

Eight months was kind of a long time.

“Are you married or like…involved?” she asked after a minute.

Kate blinked at her, then grinned. “Does it matter?”

“Yes,” Camilla admitted. She wanted Kate, but not at the expense of that. She’d already been on the other side and she wasn’t interested being the one to make the other person feel that much _suck_.

“Well lucky for you, I’m not currently occupied. I don’t get a lot of dating time trying to keep my restaurant afloat. Seems people who want relationships aren’t really into the whole…absentee thing.”

Camilla couldn’t help an irritated laugh of her own when she thought about Liz’s endless complaints about her hours, and her stress she tried not to bring home, but failed. “Yeah, I get that.”

“I had a feeling you might.” Kate’s fingers loosened their grip a little, dragging up her sides, brushing just at the edge of her breasts before smoothing back down. She grinned wickedly at Camilla’s shiver. “You staying nearby?”

“Yeah. Some hotel up the street. Walking distance because I heard open-bar and I didn’t feel like paying for an uber.” Camilla hesitated only a second, then brought her hand round the back of Kate’s hair. She dragged her blunt nails along the skin, then gently up into her hair, right where the band held the twist. “You?”

“Mm, they were booked anywhere close. You know, I almost didn’t come tonight.”

The double-entendre made Camilla shiver again, and she bit her lip when Kate shifted so her thigh was pressed right up against her. “We’d better make sure that doesn’t happen.” Bold, wanting. Playing coy was pointless now.

“Awesome. You wanna wait for Mr Hockey Star to show or…?”

Camilla shook her head so hard she felt her hair threaten to come loose from her own twist. “And what? See if he’s still got that funky jock strap? I think I’m good. Besides, his husband and I follow each other on twitter. If any weird shit goes down, he’ll give me deets. I think he’ll support me when he knows what I’ve been doing, anyway?”

Kate raised her eyebrows. “You wanna tell?”

“Tell the husband of our collective ex that we spent the reunion fucking each other in my nice hotel room instead of drinking shitty liquor and subpar garnishes at the bar?”

“Point taken.” Kate started to pull away, then stopped and put her hand to Camilla’s cheek. “Wanna make out for a second?”

Camilla grinned. “Yeah. Yeah, I really do.”

*** 

The walk to the hotel was short, but felt an eternal stretch of anticipation and anxiety. Camilla felt grounded when Kate’s hand fell against the small of her back, but as they stood waiting for the lift, she turned and asked, “Are you drunk?”

Kate gave her a considering look. “Uh, no. Just a couple all night. Why, are you? Because I’m totally down for this but I don’t…”

“I’m stone sober, and part of me kind of regrets it because I’m nervous as fuck,” Camilla admitted.

The lift doors opened with a soft ping, and Camilla let out a startled huff of air when stood there in front of her were the men of the hour. Jack and Bittle, who sorung apart, looking a little…ruffled. There was a pause, then Bittle doubled over with a laugh, his hand pushing against the lift door to keep it open.

“Oh my god, we just got caught making out in the lift,” Bittle said.

Jack rubbed back of his neck, then cleared his throat. “Camilla. Kate. I didn't expect to um. Well. This is…uh...awkward.”

“Oh this so fucking _is_ ,” Kate said, stepping back. Neither she nor Camilla made a move to stop the lift after Jack and Bittle stepped out, and the doors shut.

The silence between them was awkward, and Bittle was looking at the pair of them, his deep brown eyes big and curious. “Wait. This is…”

“Uh. Yeah,” Jack said. "We dated. I mean not at the same time but..." He coughed. "Anyway, Camilla, Kate, this is Eric, my husband." 

"Nice to meet y'all?" He was still adorably shy, his cheeks a soft pink, absently moving into Bittle’s space for comfort which Camilla had seen him do in the past. She watched how Bittle put his hand out, carefully hitching Jack close without even considering it, and it hit her just how perfect they were for each other. She hadn’t really seen it before, hadn’t really paid much attention over the last ten years but…

"We follow each other on twitter," Camilla said, shrugging.

Eric laughed. "That's right, we do. So um. So this is... Unexpected?"

Jack gave a little cough, then rubbed the back of his neck again. "So you two are...? I mean, that's good. That's...I'm happy for you."

“It’s been like a million years since either of us dated, so I don’t think we owe the bro-code anything,” Kate said, reaching for Camilla. "And we were kind of...heading upstairs. For something."

Bittle laughed quietly. “Will you at least come back to the reunion for a drink with us later?”

“What? And witness the mob waiting for all of Jack’s attention?” Kate asked, then snorted her laugh. “Nah, I think we’ll pass. But you wanna do brunch tomorrow.”

Jack’s face softened and he glanced at Bittle before saying, “I think we know a few places. Meet us down in the lobby at eleven.”

“We can do that,” Kate said, then turned to Camilla. “Right?”

Camilla swallowed thickly. The implications that they weren’t just doing this—they were doing more. They were doing over-night, and they were doing some sort of double date with the guy who had eaten them both out over the course of their college experience.

But she didn’t come here to be awkward or embarrassed. She came here to fuck a gorgeous girl and if she got a cuddle session and brunch out of it, she’d take it.

“Yeah. Anyway, you two have fun.” She waved them off, then bashed the heel of her palm against the up button, and was profoundly grateful when the lift doors dinged open straight away. Kate’s hand was still in hers as they leant against the polished steel walls, and the doors shut.

“What floor?” Kate asked after a second.

Camilla flushed. “Shit, sorry. Uh…seven.”

Kate didn’t let go, but pulled Camilla a little forward as she reached for the button, then sat back. “So that was uh…fucking awkward?”

Camilla let out a nervous giggle, rubbing her palm down her face. “God. Like part of me obviously gives no shits what Jack thinks, but it also feels weird he might be thinking about it now?”

“You don’t mean like…in a sex way?” Kate asked.

Camilla flushed again. “Oh my god I mean…no? I don’t think…” She huffed, but then all thoughts of Jack Zimmermann and his cute husband fizzled into nothing as Kate crowded into her space and dug her fingers into her hips.

“We’re going to be at your floor in like four seconds. We should…”

“Yeah,” Camilla breathed, then leant in and kissed her. It was the sort of tentative, unsure first kiss of two almost-strangers. She’d had a hundred of these kisses before, but this one felt…nicer. Maybe she’d thought that in the past, who knew. Either way, her nerves began to melt into desire, and she managed to get one hand wrapped round the back of Kate’s neck, her mouth parting just slightly for the dip of a tongue when the ding startled them apart.

Luckily this time there were no exes haunting the other side of the lift doors. Just a dimly lit corridor, and the faint smell of someone’s leftover room service.

Camilla let her fingers tangle with Kate’s again as they headed round a corner, down another corridor, and to the suite she’d booked. She hadn’t expected to spend much time beyond sleeping and showering, and she’d forgotten she left the place a slight mess before heading out. Of course she hadn’t expected to bring a hot woman back to the room either, so...

“Mine looks worse,” was all Kate said before she dragged Camilla back in.

Camilla meant to say something, make some vague apology she didn’t mean, because she didn’t actually give a shit if Kate saw her discarded bra or four pairs of running socks strewn about the floor. But there was no space to do so, as Kate’s mouth nipped at hers, hands roaming, going for the zip on the back of her dress.

Camilla felt her straps slide down the sides of her arms, and then Kate’s soft hands pushing against her warm skin, fingers working their way under the strap of her bra. 

“Fuck. Okay we should,” Kate said, between hard, pecking kisses to Camilla’s mouth. “We should…ah…” She trailed off as Camilla carefully eased her thigh between Kate’s leg, and pushed up with gentle pressure. “You’ve fucked girls before, right?”

Camilla would have laughed, but it seemed like a fair question since her biggest relationship known on campus had been the three months she kind of, sort of, dated Jack. “Almost exclusively.”

“Thank fuck. I really really wanted to get my vagina licked tonight. But like…good. I have high expectations,” Kate said, then smirked.

Camilla rolled her eyes, then dug her fingers into Kate’s hair, mussing the twist until the bobble unravelled and fell to the floor. Her hair was soft, wet under just a little from her previous shower, and had a faint scent of something floral—like rose. Camilla tilted Kate’s head to the side, burying her nose against the back of her ear, and breathed her in. Her mouth opened against warm skin, leaving sucking kisses along her pulse point.

“We should get naked,” Kate murmured, then tugged at Camilla’s dress until it pooled at her feet. Camilla quickly returned the favour, and the two of them kissed, backing clumsily into the bed. The covers were ruffled, but not uncomfortable under her back as Kate crawled between her legs, kissing her fierce and open mouthed as her hand drifted to the inside of her thigh. 

“Yeah?” Camilla asked, her mouth shifting into a smirk when Kate’s hips pushed up against her. “You want to…”

“Yeah, I do.” Kate shrugged, then leant in and kissed her again. “I like you, what can I say?”

Camilla didn’t point out the whole logistics of it—how they didn’t know where each other lived, and how she was pretty shitty at being in an in-the-city relationship, let alone something long distance, and how a few drinks and some late-night hotel fucking wasn’t exactly solid foundation for something more.

But something was telling her to just shut the fuck up and let it happen. Kate was gorgeous and fun, and there was the promise of something, if she didn’t try to complicate things.

Camilla turned to see Kate unhooking her own bra. Camilla reached out, pushing her back to the pillows as soon as her chest was bare, and she bracketed Kate’s thighs with her own.

“You’re fucking beautiful, you know that, right?” Camilla breathed, running her hands up Kate’s ribs.

Kate shivered. “You make it easy to believe you,” was all she said.

Camilla gazed at her another moment, then leant her head in and carefully ran the flat of her tongue over her left nipple. When Kate sucked her breath in and arched her hips, Camilla laved down harder, her other hand gently working her right breast, thumbing at the nipple.

She could feel Kate’s skin heating up, feel her breath hitching as she drew her mouth up in a series of slow kisses until she reached her lips. Kate’s tongue slid against her own, velvet-soft, warm, wet. She let her hand drift between Kate’s legs, feeling the dampness as she pushed her fingers between her folds, and gently stroked along her clit.

“Shit,” Kate said. “Shit, shit.”

Camilla worked her up for a minute, then pulled back, pushing her thighs apart, and she shuffled down low enough to nose along the top of her pelvis. Kate shuddered slightly, her fingers absently digging into Camilla’s hair as Camilla took a breath, then applied her mouth.

Eight months was a while, but not so long she didn’t fall back into it with enthusiasm and skill. Her tongue worked against Kate’s clit, and her hand sneaked in pushing the tips of two fingers just inside her vagina. She could feel Kate spasm lightly against her as she fingered her, shallow and gentle, listening to the soft moans as her orgasm crested.

“God, fuck, I fucking knew you were going to be good at this,” Kate gasped, and then she reached round the back of Camilla’s head and held her still, the flat of her tongue just pushing against her until she was groaning, and coming. Camilla felt it round her fingers, the shudder, the throbbing, the gentle rush of wetness. Pulling away, she let her tongue drift lower to taste her, then kissed her way back up Kate’s stomach until they were nose-to-nose.

Kate dug her fingers back into Camilla’s hair and pulled her in for a hot, fierce kiss. “I’m going to make you feel so fucking good right now. You cool with that?”

Camilla couldn’t help a tiny laugh, the sound right up against Kate’s lips. “Yeah. I’m good with that.”

*** 

An hour later, sweaty, having come a few more times, the pair of them lay flat on their backs on top of the duvet. Kate had switched on the TV, but the sound was nothing more than a dull murmur in the background.

Kate hadn’t been lying—she’d worked Camilla up with her mouth in a way no other ex had done for her before. She hadn’t been lying about being better than Jack, which was a feat in itself, and one she deeply appreciated. Melancholy set in not long after, though, when she realised this wasn’t going to be forever. Hell, it was barely going to be twenty-four hours.

“So, brunch,” Camilla said softly, staring up at the strange patterns on the ceiling.

Kate propped herself up on her elbow, leaning into Camilla’s side. Her free hand traced a circle round her naval, then drifted up between her breasts. It wasn’t sensual in that moment, but it was comforting and that was almost more overwhelming. “Is that okay? I mean, if seeing them again will be weird…I mean, shit, Jack and I only went on a couple dates, you know? Got a little schwasty and made out at one spring C, then we fucked a week later, and then it was pretty much over. But I know you two were like…”

“No,” she said, then winced at her own harsh tone. But she was a little tired of people remembering her for getting head from Jack than for being her own sort of bad-ass in college. “I just mean…like we were more friends than anything, you know? We were together like three months but we saw each other pretty much never. He was all about hockey and Bittle and well…”

“It all made sense in the end?” Kate offered, and snickered. “I didn’t mean anything by it.”

“People assumed we were something we weren’t. He was a better friend, and frankly I’m too gay to be dating men anyway.” She shrugged, shifting minutely closer. “That’s not really my problem.”

“Well I know it wasn’t the sex,” Kate said, and though she smirked again, her cheeks were a little pink.

Camilla rolled her eyes, but couldn’t help brushing her finger through the fringe hanging over Kate’s forehead. “No. It wasn’t the sex. I guess I’m a little…bummed out? Because this was really good and I uh…I mean…”

“It would be nice to do it again?” Kate offered, and Camilla sighed, nodding. “Where do you live? I mean, my shit is constantly busy but you know, I’m not exactly eager to head out and never see you again.”

The words were casual, but there was something heavier in her tone that Camilla _felt_. “I live in Boston, which I know is…”

“Shit. Yeah?” Kate asked, and her eyes had a sort of glow to them. “Me too.”

Camilla pushed herself half up, staring hard at Kate. “If you’re fucking with me…”

“Cross my heart, babe,” Kate said, and did just that, a little x over her left breast. “I don’t really believe in the whole fate thing, you know, but…”

Camilla didn’t want to hear more words. She just wanted to bask in the maybe. Maybe, because nothing was ever sure, and she didn’t have the best track record. But maybe, because she hadn’t felt this way in a long time—maybe ever. And maybe, because there was a chance now, and Kate seemed just as interested in seeing it through as she was.

So she kissed her. She put a palm to Kate’s cheek, drew her in, and kissed her. When they pulled apart, Kate was grinning, a little sheepish, and a lot happy. They managed to work their way under the covers eventually, and Camilla felt sated and safe as the warm body curled round her back, and the hand at her belly held possessive and tight.

It was definitely a maybe, and that was something she could live with.

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to follow me on tumblr: [angryspace-ravenclaw](https://angryspace-ravenclaw.tumblr.com)


End file.
